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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624145">The Lord of Misrule</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tumblefish/pseuds/Tumblefish'>Tumblefish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown &amp; King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Beetlejuice Has Mood Ring Hair (Beetlejuice), Beetlejuice is a chaotic uncle to the kid, Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Happy Ending, Humor, No Beetlejuice/Lydia romance, Post-Canon, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:15:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tumblefish/pseuds/Tumblefish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which twenty-five years after she last saw him Lydia summons Beetlejuice, her fifteen year old son is bullied and withdrawn, Charles is ailing, the Maitlands long for a bigger horizon and Beetlejuice's brand of chaos will shake them all up for the better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adam Maitland &amp; Barbara Maitland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Little Bit of Magic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which saying his name after all this time is just a cheap thrill. Because there's no way it can work, is there?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong><span class="u">Soon</span></strong><br/>
It was night time and a mom, her son and a demon were sitting together on a roof stargazing. Their closeness would, Lydia thought, make a good photo for a family album. A strange and unusual picture for a weird album but nevertheless it would be a sweet image. The three of them had been up here for a while talking about not much and simply enjoying this shared time. As the conversation meandered on Lydia noticed that one voice hadn’t chimed in for a while. And that voice belonged to someone who had opinions on everything<em>.</em><br/>
‘Beetlejuice?’ <br/>
He was staring at his beer as if it had offended him. Given that he appeared to be almost always tuned to some internal pleasure seeking frequency she guessed what was going to happen next. If Plan A: drink it and enjoy it, hadn’t worked then it was time for Plan B. His tongue darted out and he licked most of the label clean off the bottle then swallowed it down with satisfaction.  <br/>
‘Whoa, how did you do that? Laurence asked. ‘What’s your tongue made of?’<br/>
‘Tongue stuff. Arm.’ <br/>
Laurence held out his forearm and let out a shocked laugh when Beetlejuice gave it a long lick. ‘It’s like a cat’s times a thousand,’ Laurence said, sounding impressed. ‘Check it out, you’ve taken the skin off. I’m literally bleeding. That is so cool.’<br/>
Beetlejuice pushed back a grimy black-and-white sleeve. ‘Now you. For science.’ <br/>
Lydia was proud as without hesitation Laurence leaned forward and licked the powder-white-with-a-base-covering-of best-not-to-think-about-it dead flesh. <br/>
‘Ewww!’ Beetlejuice howled. ‘So slimy! How can you have that living in your mouth?’ <br/>
Lydia knew he was playing up to the moment because he had to know what human tongues felt like and if asked would no doubt confirm it with the most X-rated story he could think of. But Laurence was laughing as he and Beetlejuice teased each other for being physical freaks and once again Lydia marvelled at the miracle of it. Her talkative and social son. Only a short time ago he’d been lost and now here he was confident and having fun as he casually wiped a few drops of blood off on his jeans.  <br/>
‘Go and wash your arm,’ Lydia said to him.<br/>
‘And I will need precisely some different beers and lots of crunchy things,’ Beetlejuice ordered.<br/>
‘Food?’<br/>
‘Surprise me, kid. Go on, quickest and best.’<br/>
Lydia felt almost teary as she watched Laurence, well, there was no other word for it, <em>bound</em> off the roof and back inside. The sound of his footsteps quickly fading due to the speed he was moving at. Then she glanced back over to Beetlejuice and gave him a fond smile just because.<br/>
‘I know that look,’ Beetlejuice said. ‘That’s the boring kind of happy. Not my scene, I need to mix things up.’ He raised his hand and Lydia braced for lightning and levitation or maybe clones and smashed roof tiles but he just ran it through his hair. There was enough moonlight for her to be able to clearly see purple streak in to cover the green that was Beetlejuice’s default hair state. She’d long ago worked out that purple meant that he was sad and so understood what mixing it up meant.<br/>
‘It’s been fun playing happy families and all,’ he said. Striking a nonchalant pose and trying for casual bravado. ‘But I need more spice in my life.’ His miserable tone of voice was giving him away now too.<br/>
They’d been heading to this point all along but Lydia had been desperate for it to always be a long way off.<br/>
‘It’s been real,’ he said. ‘But it’s time I blew this joint.’</p><p><span class="u"><strong>Now</strong></span><br/>
The grandfather clock in the kitchen corridor was sounding the hour. Lydia listened to each of its eight chimes and then reached for her glass. A little ceremony that had built up due to wine o’clock being her favourite time of day. It wasn’t about the alcohol because she’d never been much of a drinker. This one glass of shiraz was plenty and she probably wouldn’t drink it all, it was about what it represented because kicking back with a glass of wine at the end of another long day seemed to be just about the last connection she had with her old Manhattan life. Although back there a glass of wine at home was often a prelude to going out for a late dinner. Here in Connecticut tonight, as every night, she’d cooked a meal for three then ate her portion alone.<br/>
Later, she’d go to the attic to watch TV with Barbara and Adam, wanting their company more than the entertainment but right now she was sat at the kitchen table in front of her laptop scrolling through her newsfeed and trying very hard not to hate her friends as she looked at pictures of babies and partners and the city.<br/>
The city was the least complicated hurt. It was the straightforward yearning for the culture and energy of the place and above all her business that she was currently paying someone to manage for her. It had started as a photo gallery but over time and as technology made it easier Lydia had merged what the lens could see with her imagination and added otherwordly creatures to blend with real people and locations. Monsters commuted on the subway, gargoyles gossiped on tin can phones looped outside apartment building windows and huge hands pushed the Staten Island ferry along as if a child was playing with it in the bathtub. The success of her physical store was nothing compared to her success online and that was driven by the popularity of <em>him</em>. Lydia had never attached a name but fans had dubbed him the Lord of Misrule. He was a wide-eyed and pale figure that somehow managed to look splendid in a grubby black-and-white striped suit and grey coat. Human-like but obviously something else Lydia portrayed him dancing on deli countertops surrounded by unaware diners, sitting excitedly on a man’s shoulders as he queued outside a nightclub and a thousand other poses. His playful anarchy was a permanent best seller and generated a fair amount of fan art. What Lydia most frequently saw of that was recreations of the one sombre image she’d made of him. In the original he’s sat on a rainy night slumped against a closed Broadway theatre stage door. Still at last and seemingly so sad he suddenly appears to be about a thousand years old. Fans always added friendly animals or monsters to it as if they couldn’t bear to see him alone. As art the danger was contained and he was universally loved.</p><p>‘Lydia, it’s getting late and your mother’s still not back.’<br/>
‘No Dad, it’s alright,’ she soothed, getting up and going over to take her dad’s hand as Charles stood in the doorway in the dark blue pyjamas that were getting too big for him now illness was paring him down to skin and bone. His dressing gown was open because he could no longer tie the cord.<br/>
‘She called and said she loves you very much and she’ll be back soon so you should go to bed and not worry.’<br/>
At first it had been upsetting to lie like this now it came as naturally as breathing. It was usually her mom that he asked after. Delia coming along too late to be a regular part of Charles’ journey into the distant past. He and Delia had had what they always described as a good run then referred to each other ever after and with great affection as very dear friends. They’d socialised frequently, even taking vacations together and Charles had proudly walked Delia down the aisle when she’d remarried. It was all wonderfully civilised. And then Charles started to forget things.<br/>
‘Goodnight,’ Lydia said when he was settled back in bed. At least tonight he’d shuffled alongside her back to his bedroom like a lamb. It was much harder when he got agitated.<br/>
‘Goodnight, Emily.’</p><p>Back in front of her laptop Lydia took a fortifying sip of wine and tried to be a person and stay connected to a New York life that she’d left for a couple of weeks to make sure Charles was okay and still hadn’t returned to a full two and a half years later. She wrote a sympathetic comment ending in a hug emoji on a status update complaining about teething and lack of sleep.<br/>
<em>“Thanks, hon. We’ll be fine once we’re where you are. So much easier when they’re almost grown!”</em> came the instant reply. Lydia sent back a heart because what else could you do?<br/>
Laurence was fifteen and it wasn’t fine where they were. Loving him was the easiest and hardest thing that Lydia did. But, oh, how she loved him. Many of her contemporaries were becoming first time mothers in their forties and compared to them she’d had him very young but at twenty-five she’d felt ready and had been glad to break out of the permanent adolescence a lot of her friends had seemed to be stuck in. Lydia had never regretted becoming a mom but these days she worried all the time that she was bad at it and didn’t have to look hard for tangible proof. There was medication, and letters from the school. A food chart stuck on the fridge and sessions with an educational psychologist coming up.<br/>
Perhaps things would be different if Laurence’s dad wasn’t so useless. When was the last time he’d actually seen his son, two summers ago or the one before that? Miles lived in an English village so picturesque that on her one visit there Lydia had felt personally insulted by the cars and all other evidence of modern life because it spoiled the Jane Austen on steroids perfection, and his parenting style with Laurence was to mostly pretend that international travel and communications hadn’t been invented. More than twice Lydia’s age at the time they first met Miles, Gregory Peck handsome and with his beautiful speaking voice and perfect manners, had been the antithesis of most men Lydia knew. Her friends were in the throes of their quarter life crisis obsessing over how to define themselves whereas Miles knew exactly who he was and that was very attractive. He was so upfront about his flaws and his fecklessness and his many other children and their mothers whom he affectionately referred to as ‘the Tribe’ and about how he was in New York for no other reason than to throw money around and have a good time. Lydia found herself laughing with him, not at him and had been naïve enough to believe Miles when he’d said that she meant more than all the others had and promised that he would never leave.<br/>
At first he’d been delighted to become a father again or so Lydia thought. He’d been insistent on the name as a matter of family tradition and she’d liked hearing him talk of them as being a family. Laurence, named after one of his English great-grandfathers who being upper-class English had spelled his name the French way because of course he had. It was just another of the byzantine social rules that that family lived by. Miles had held his newborn son in his arms and given him his name but he was gone months before Laurence was old enough to say anything at all let alone say it for himself.<br/>
Lydia still sometimes speculated on whether Laurence would have been different if Miles had stuck around. Not wanting to admit that by different she meant better because he was so palpably unhappy and out of reach that she just couldn’t follow the traditional mom narrative and say he was perfect as he was when that lie would diminish them both.<br/>
Cut off from the life she’d built herself and constantly juggling the demands of an ailing father and an unsettled son Lydia was starting to feel invisible to everyone but Barbara and Adam. She loved them dearly but sometimes felt disconnected even from them. Their clock had stopped twenty-five years ago, the world had moved on and Lydia had not just grown up but had now lived longer than they ever had. There were days when they seemed very young to her.<br/>
Invisible. A potent word, it rattled around Lydia’s mind making her remember when she’d felt so unseen she’d contemplated suicide and who’d been there to stop her from going through with it.<br/>
‘Beetlejuice.’<br/>
She half-murmured it and ridiculously it felt thrilling to say it out loud after all this time. The Maitlands didn’t like talking about him and Charles seemed to have forgotten him along with so much else.<br/>
‘Beetlejuice.’<br/>
A bright flash of excitement searing across a countless succession of dull days and duller nights. A little bit of magic.<br/>
Lydia’s skin started to tingle and it seemed as if the house was suddenly alive and holding its breath. She told herself off for being irrational because it was just a word. Just a name that belonged to someone who surely couldn’t be summoned after what had happened. Or, to be more accurate, after what she had done to him. Just a word, just a name so no need to say it again. No need for mad laughter and crazy dancing. No need for being made to feel as if anything was possible. No need for that look in his eyes when he’d said she was his best friend.<br/>
God but she was lonely.<br/>
Still, Lydia thought, that’s the hand she’d been dealt. It was time to get off Facebook and go and watch some terrible reality TV with Barbara and Adam. Maybe as a treat she could put her pyjamas on early and make some cocoa. It was what it was and not worth getting upset about. Perhaps tomorrow she’d break the monotony by going up on the roof and cleaning the leaves out of the gutters.<br/>
The roof…<br/>
<em>“Can you see me?”</em><br/>
She could then and seeing him now seemed like the best thing and the worst thing that could possibly happen. But at least it would be something.<br/>
‘Beetlejuice!’ </p><p>And there he was. Summoned in the blink of an eye and stood in the middle of the kitchen eyes wide and wild, face split by a toothy grin. Lydia gasped, it wasn’t supposed to have worked. She was just meant to have enjoyed her safe little rush from saying his name. He took a step towards her, really there, really real, and not the Beetlejuice she’d last seen with his wedding clothes and cowboy hat but what she always thought of as the true Beetlejuice. Electric green hair, striped suit and a fizzing, untameable energy so powerful he might as well be giving off sparks. <br/>
‘I knew you’d miss me,’ he said in that inimitable rasp she’d never forgotten. ‘Don’t I get a hug?’ <br/>
He tilted his head to the side as the grin got even wider and in that moment Lydia realised that she’d made a huge mistake. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lydia's art is a rip off of subwaydoodle.com. If you like the idea of it then check out the original, it's brilliant.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Let's Get Wild</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Beetlejuice and the Maitlands are reunited and Lydia is reminded of the power of names once her son meets her "old friend" for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beetlejuice was here. Lydia couldn’t believe what she’d done.<br/>
‘You have to go. Now.’<br/>
‘No way, I only just arrived. It’s time to make things interesting. What are we doing, scaring, possessing,’ he started to bounce thrilled at the possibilities, ‘murdering?’<br/>
Lydia wondered if she’d honestly forgotten how unhinged he was or if she’d told herself a different story over the years to make what had happened easier to live with.<br/>
‘No!’<br/>
‘No!’ Beetlejuice mimicked her tone but used at least three times the volume before, boundary free as always, he snatched her up in a cold, bone crushing hug then held her up in his outstretched arms and spun around. Effortlessly strong and endlessly delighted. He set her on the floor and gestured from his eyes to hers. ‘I used to have to look a lot further down, you’re humongous!’<br/>
‘I’m five-four, you dope.’ Despite herself Lydia fell back into her old way of talking to him as she had for those glorious few days when they’d been a team. ‘I was fifteen last time we met. Teenagers grow.’<br/>
It was a shock to her too. The Beetlejuice in her memories was a towering figure however she now saw that in reality he was at best only a couple of inches taller than her.<br/>
‘Time works differently Topside. What are you now, ninety?’<br/>
‘I’m forty.’<br/>
There was a pause as cogs turned slowly inside a demon mind before Lydia put him out of his misery.<br/>
‘It’s been twenty-five years since you left.’<br/>
‘Yeah, it feels like a good while since being murdered.’<br/>
His last word dropped like a heavy weight that smothered all the energy as he slowly rubbed his chest with the heel of his palm and winced.<br/>
‘I am so sorry-’<br/>
‘Don’t be it was nothing,’ Beetlejuice said with a smirk, having obviously faked a moment of sincerity to get a rise out of her. ‘Did me a huge favour there. I mean being alive - phew!’ He fanned at his face. ‘That is a lot! I don’t know how you breathers stand it. Glad I tried it, you should try everything once except incest and morris dancing but, holy crap, was I glad to get out of that situation. Humanity: just say no freaking way! Left a great scar though. Wanna see it?’<br/>
He started to open his shirt.<br/>
‘Ewww, no. Put yourself away.’<br/>
Reluctantly Beetlejuice did a couple of buttons back up with a muttered ‘but it looks awesome.’<br/>
‘I don’t understand how you can’t mind that I killed you.’<br/>
In a way Lydia felt cheated, she wanted to talk about it properly and it was somehow offensive that he didn’t seem to care.<br/>
Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. ‘Are we still talking about this? It was a long time ago. You know you should try to live in the moment, be more Zen. It’s much better for you.’<br/>
‘I’m not taking life advice from you.’<br/>
‘Then why am I here, what are you going to take? Last time you took my life so I can’t wait to see how you’re gonna top that. First though got to do some more hellos and reacquaint myself with those sexy, sexy Maitlands.’<br/>
That could not happen without Barbara and Adam being warned first.<br/>
‘Wait,’ Lydia said. ‘I need to talk to them. So stay here, don’t move.’<br/>
‘Nice try but I like to make an entrance.’ Beetlejuice looked up to the ceiling. ‘Daddy’s home!’ And with that he shot up through it leaving Lydia to run to the attic. </p><p>Adam put down his tiny paintbrush with the glow of satisfaction that comes from spending the day productively if quietly. Building a model of the town as he and Barbara remembered it was one of the better decisions he'd made in his afterlife. The model as a whole now spread over several tables however almost every individual component of it was a miracle of 1:76 scale. Townsfolk no bigger than 0.8 inches went about their day wearing clothes and holding accessories the fine detail of which was so small that when Adam painted it on it looked like his hands weren’t moving. He’d always loved modelling. At first it had been soldiers and tanks with his grandfather while in high school the model club’s preferences had skewed heavily towards fantasy figures. And then in death he’d come back to one of his favourite hobbies and become master of all he surveyed.<br/>
The model helped. He was never able to fully articulate what he meant by that but it served to broaden he and Barbara’s limited horizon and gave them an outlet to talk about the world they could no longer be a part of. Plus it served as a way to keep track of time. Adam always added a surprise scene for Barbara to find on her birthday and he made something truly special each Valentine’s. There was snow at Christmas and a concert and picnic in the park on the fourth of July. It had taken some years but now they were both able to enjoy the model being spooktastic for Halloween without thinking about the time they really had met a demon. Adam’s current project within the town was changing the colours for autumn and so for the last few days he’d been painting trees and making little piles of fake leaves to be added to lawns and gutters while Barbara had been occupied by her latest gift for Laurence, a long knitted scarf. It was always a bitter-sweet moment when either of them did something for him because they longed so much to be a part of his life. However this scarf like all the gifts before it would be passed off by Lydia as something she’d bought on Etsy.<br/>
There had been a golden time when Laurence was a baby who they’d held and cooed over whenever Lydia came to visit Charles and Delia. Even when he was an adorable little toddling thing Laurence’s mind had still been broad enough that to him the Maitlands were simply more people to love him and play with him. Then Delia had left and for a long time Charles preferred to have a change of scenery and to go and visit his grandson in New York. That long time was in fact too long a time and when Laurence and Lydia returned to the house to live he was an ordinary child and like almost everyone who’d ever lived before him the shutters had come down and his view of the world had narrowed. It had broken Adam and Barbara’s hearts to acknowledge that the inevitable had happened and that they had become beyond Laurence’s perception. <br/>
‘That’s a great pattern, honey.’ Adam said, coming to sit by his wife on the couch. ‘He’ll love it.’ They shared a sad smile acknowledging yet again just how much they wished that they could properly love him.<br/>
Barbara put her knitting to one side. ‘Let’s cheer ourselves up,’ she said. ‘What can we do tonight that’s special?’<br/>
‘Me!’ Beetlejuice roared appearing through the floor.<br/>
Adam and Barbara both yelled in horror and leapt to their feet. He yelled right back and there was a moment of confusion as they all chased each other around the attic before Beetlejuice faced the Maitlands as they cowered away.<br/>
‘A-dawg! B-Town! Still crazy after all these years, am I right? It is so good to see you, you beautiful, boring bastards. Who’s going to be the first to give me some sugar? Go on, lay it on me.’<br/>
Beetlejuice opened his arms wide and then deflated when no one rushed into them.<br/>
Adam gasped, this could not be happening. ‘But…but…’<br/>
‘But how have I kept it so tight?’ said Beetlejuice. ‘That is a great question. It’s more mental than anything else. I’m very centered. I honour my truth and my body and - oh Jesus, what is wrong with you two?’<br/>
‘You’re back,’ Barbara said.<br/>
‘Yes, I know that so why aren’t you happy? Come on, the ol’ gang’s back together. The three of us.’ Beetlejuice threw his arms around the Maitlands' shoulders and gave them both a squeeze. ‘The threesome. I think that’s a journey we’re emotionally ready to go on. The safety word’s ‘noooooo, please stop it it hurts I’m begging you’. More of a safety phrase there but it’ll do. Let’s get wild!’<br/>
Adam slapped Beetlejuice’s hand away as it squeezed his ass then he pushed Beetlejuice back standing between him and Barbara to cut off Beetlejuice’s lewd advance towards her.<br/>
‘Get away from us!’ Adam commanded and Beetlejuice blinked in surprise.<br/>
‘You mean that,’ he said. ‘Why is no one ever pleased to see me?!’ The tips of Beetlejuice’s hair turned red as he shouted.<br/>
‘As if we would be,’ Barbara said. ‘After everything you did.’<br/>
‘Oh yeah, the double-crossing and the murdering. Hang on, that’s what you all decided to do to me. Perhaps this time we can swap roles.’<br/>
‘Beetlejuice, stop.’<br/>
Everyone turned to see Lydia in the doorway.<br/>
She was always able to make him pause, Adam remembered. And he was very grateful that she still could.<br/>
‘We’re not unhappy to see you,’ she said, giving the Maitlands a significant look so they’d play along. ‘It’s just a big surprise.’<br/>
‘A good surprise?’ Beetlejuice asked, clearly desperate to be told that he was wanted.<br/>
‘Well…’ Adam began and tapered off all in one word.<br/>
Beetlejuice slumped down onto the window ledge.<br/>
‘No, it's fine. I get it,’ he said. ‘No one wants me around. I mean you summoned me and I came.’ He gave Lydia a soulful look. ‘And the first thing you say is go away. Now you two stone cold foxes are acting weird and everyone’s making me remember stuff I don’t want to. So I’ll go. And don’t text me in the middle of the night saying “u up?” because it’ll be "new phone-" ah, you know the rest. I’m gone.’<br/>
He took a smoke pellet out of his jacket pocket and dropped it. A small puff of smoke rose up before almost immediately fading away. Beetlejuice sighed. ‘Fuck you guys.’ He opened the window and disappeared out onto the roof.<br/>
Adam didn’t know what to say so he wrapped his arms around Barbara for comfort as she asked Lydia to explain.<br/>
‘I didn’t think it would work,’ she said.<br/>
‘Why would you even try?’ Adam wanted to know. ‘That needy pervert is back and you have a child in the house.’<br/>
‘I was that age when I met him’ Lydia said. ‘And you.’<br/>
‘Best day of our deaths,’ said Barbara and Adam nodded his agreement. Lydia had always meant the world to them.<br/>
There was a warm pause between them all which ended when Lydia said she’d better follow Beetlejuice.<br/>
‘I don’t understand why he’s here,’ Adam said.<br/>
Lydia shrugged. ‘I’m sorry he scared you both.’ Then she ducked out onto the tiles. </p><p>The scene that greeted Lydia was eerily reminiscent of the first time she ever saw Beetlejuice as if the last quarter of a century simply hadn’t happened. The light from the attic window spilled onto him highlighting that his hair was now purple.<br/>
‘There’s no stars in the Netherworld,’ he said quietly. ‘Thanks for giving me a chance to see them again.’<br/>
‘You know there’s one named after you?’<br/>
‘Tenth brightest star in the sky. If it was really named after me it would be the ten millionth or not even that. That’s still way too high in the rankings.’<br/>
It seemed like Beetlejuice’s mood had flipped yet again and now he was calm and sounded inconsolably sad.<br/>
‘Beetlejuice, I-’<br/>
‘What do you want, Lydia? Because if you said my name three times for the lols no one’s laughing.’<br/>
‘Nothing was supposed to happen. You were a ghost.’<br/>
'Mom fixed me.'<br/>
‘I thought your mom was dead. Or deader or whatever you call it.’<br/>
‘Nah,’ said Beetlejuice as if being eaten by a giant sandworm had no more consequence to it than a paper cut. ‘You can’t keep a demon as powerful as her down. With the different time speeds when I walked through the door Mommie Dearest was already back behind her desk and was all “why didn't you realise the breathers hated you, Lawrence?  No one is ever going to be your friend. That wedding outfit makes your hips look huge.”’ <br/>
Lydia frowned in sympathy as Beetlejuice’s voice broke with emotion at the end of his sentence. While he was mostly awful, it was true, the demon Lydia hated was Juno.<br/>
‘She’s got powers like whoa and she made me good as new. Said it was so she wouldn't be embarrassed by having a newly dead as a son just embarrassed by having a massive fuck up for a son like always. But she still did something just for me so it's really, really nice. I mean she left as soon as she'd said the incantation and I kind of had to put myself back together alone but that's cool. She's busy, I get it. No biggie.' <br/>
‘Sounds good,’ Lydia said not because she thought it was even close to being so but because she felt she had to say something.<br/>
‘Yeah, she’s all heart. Got loads of them. She keeps them on a shelf in her office.’<br/>
A car noisily revved past the grounds with music blaring. Beetlejuice reacted to the <em> thump-thump </em> of the bass and started nodding along. Music always had such a hold over him. Lydia thought back to how he used to dance to anything from the microwave pinging to <em> O Fortuna</em>. She’d danced too and now it seemed like they’d been the most carefree moments of her life and they’d only happened because of him. <br/>
‘There’s a radio in the kitchen.’<br/>
Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow and carried on nodding.<br/>
‘I was just having a glass of wine if you want one.’<br/>
More nods and some shoulder work as another car roared by with its music turned up to the max.<br/>
Lydia went back inside trusting that he would follow her which he did without incident because Barbara and Adam were nowhere to be seen. Back in the kitchen she turned the radio on and Beetlejuice curled his lip at every station she flipped through until there was a fast beat.<br/>
<em>“Wow, you can really dance...”<br/>
</em>He beamed as if the song was complimenting him directly and started moving from side-to-side in time with it, arms up, bent at the elbows.<br/>
<em>“Wow, you can really dance. He went…”<br/>
</em>The beat changed and Beetlejuice went for it proving that the song certainly wasn’t lying about his abilities because he genuinely was an excellent dancer. When he reached a peak he pointed at Lydia to take over then stopped dead, disappointed when she didn’t move.<br/>
‘You were a lot more fun last time,’ he groused. One leap later and he was perched on the kitchen counter legs hanging down.<br/>
I used to sit there, Lydia thought, and on the floor. When did I decide that I could only use chairs? She handed Beetlejuice a glass and then sat on the counter opposite him drumming her heels against the cabinet. Maybe it was lame but it felt fabulously unorthodox to be up there.<br/>
‘Are we BFFFFS again?’<br/>
‘Would you want that?’<br/>
‘Are you kidding? he said. ‘Having friends is the best! Sure they screw you over when they want their mom and then literally stab you in the back but on the whole it’s a great experience.’<br/>
‘I don't think that's all friends.’<br/>
‘It’s all of mine.’<br/>
Assuming Beetlejuice wasn’t trying to manipulate her, and that was a big assumption, then he was implying that he was far lonelier than she was. The Beetlejuice Lydia drew and had commodified was, apart from that one famous exception, always carefree and happy. It was hard not to resent the real one for being more complicated and even harder to not feel guilty for doing so.<br/>
She was spared having to respond by Laurence who walked into the kitchen and immediately went to leave when he realised he wasn’t alone.<br/>
‘Laurence, wait. This is,’ Lydia paused wondering exactly how to explain exhibit A who was staring at Laurence with a fascination that was not reassuring, ‘this is an old friend. Everyone calls him Beetlejuice.’<br/>
Laurence didn't so much as glance in Beetlejuice's direction before he turned and walked off without a word.<br/>
‘What was that?’ Beetlejuice asked when he’d gone.<br/>
‘Laurence is my son.’<br/>
Beetlejuice clasped his hands over his heart. ‘You named him after me.’<br/>
‘No, it was his great-grandfather’s name. It’s spelt with a u. How do you spell yours?’<br/>
‘Exactly the same but not exactly. It's not important, what's important is that he’s got my name. That means everything.’<br/>
‘It doesn’t have to.’ Lydia tried to put the brakes on before this headed somewhere insane.<br/>
‘If you haven’t learned by now that names are important than you really haven’t been paying attention,’ Beetlejuice said. ‘How old is he?’<br/>
‘Fifteen.’<br/>
‘He’s got my name and your old age. This is going to be sooooo good! And I get it now. When you said earlier that teenagers grow you meant both ways, up and along.’<br/>
‘Beetlejuice, don’t.’<br/>
‘There’s a lot of that kid, isn’t there? Like you could roll him out and make four regular-size ones from all that dough.’<br/>
‘Please stop talking.’<br/>
‘I’m just saying he’s a wide load, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it.’<br/>
Lydia wouldn’t know where to start with discussing Laurence even if she thought Beetlejuice was capable of both listening to and understanding an explanation but it didn’t matter because he jumped down and excitedly ran to where Laurence had briefly stood. He looked out into the interior of the house and then back to Lydia.<br/>
‘I think he could use a buddy.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>O Fortuna: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk<br/>It amuses me to think of Beetlejuice dancing along to it Broadway style confident that he's nailing it.<br/>Wow, Beej and Lydia can really dance: https://twitter.com/prezryan/status/1236342386780930053?lang=en</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Fantastical Element</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Laurence and Lawrence have their first conversation and Lydia and Beetlejuice admire some art while Beetlejuice wonders what PTSD means.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laurence had ten minutes left to live life as he’d always known it. Unaware that change was coming he passed five of them in the same way he’d passed pretty much every one since dinner by being glued to a documentary on YouTube. On the screen a young man in dark battledress was hanging by his fingers from a rope slung over a tank of muddy water while a much bigger and more impressive uniformed figure stood by it urging him on.<br/><em>“Try it again. Feet together, knees together. Don’t just hang there, you look like a piece of drying meat. Don’t just hang. Do something.”</em><br/>Three thousand three hundred miles away and several years ago a Royal Marines recruit lost his grip and plunged into the water.<br/>Laurence grabbed another handful of chips watching as the scene changed to more recruits who gasped and grunted with effort as they sprinted and threw themselves over various challenges on what appeared to be the obstacle course from hell. He’d looked it up, you could apply to join the Royal Marines aged fifteen years and nine months and his second most frequently occurring future fantasy was about getting dual citizenship because of his dad and going to England to do it. He imagined announcing it in class and saying to all those hateful faces that wouldn’t give him the time of day that he was leaving to become a commando and that while they had years more of being schoolkids to go he was a man. And it would be too late for all the girls who acted like he wasn’t there to get to know him even though they’d want to now in a reversal of their current indifference. It seemed to Laurence that when you hit a certain point on the scales everyone else held a meeting that you weren’t invited to and voted you to be asexual or aromantic. Not that either of those weren’t good things to be if that was your orientation, he was sure of that, but they weren’t his.<br/>In his daydreams Laurence was fit enough to pass the entry requirements for the Royal Marines or any other armed force with ease. He was tall, already over six feet, and this alternate version of him was also muscly and lean and capable of great strength and endurance whereas in reality he got breathless just walking from class to class and his body shape was the exact opposite of the rangy, tapering figure he felt it should be.<br/>With five minutes to go before the start of everything he thought he knew about his mom and how life worked and ended being blown sky-high he remembered the peanut butter. They got the smooth kind for Charles because it had a lot of calories and was easy to eat. Laurence wasn’t supposed to touch it but, he thought, if he took a little, a spoonful to satisfy the craving, then his mom would never notice. Or better yet he could take the jar and as long as he replaced it tomorrow no one would know. He couldn’t concentrate on the documentary now even though this was one of his favourites because the idea of the peanut butter and his craving for it had become so fixed and so strong. He had to have it and decided that it would be a final gesture. No one started a diet and exercise regime at night so he would have one last symbolic night of eating whatever he wanted then wake up tomorrow with a new mindset and fully committed to getting active duty level fit. He’d been down this path so many times and somehow in the moment always managed to ignore the fact that there had been countless previous final gestures and not once had the morning brought with it a radical and lasting change in behaviour. Yet again he convinced himself that it made sense to eat all the bad foods now so there was no waste because wasting food was wrong and it would ensure that they wouldn’t be there to tempt him tomorrow when his new healthier life began. So he emptied out his various snack stashes and put all the packets and boxes on his bed then headed to the kitchen.<br/>Two minutes left and his plan was derailed by his mom being there. The frustration bit deep and it didn’t matter that he had all the other things to eat because he wouldn’t feel satisfied without the peanut butter as well now that he had a taste for it. There was no option but to get away as fast as possible and come back later when the coast was clear.<br/>‘Laurence, wait,’ Mom tried to call him back. ‘This is an old friend. Everyone calls him Beetlejuice.’<br/>There was a vague shape on the edge of Laurence’s peripheral vision which he ignored before flicking his gaze down and walking away. On the way back to his room he went to check on his granddad. Whenever he left his room at night he always spent a few moments outside of Charles’ bedroom listening to make sure that everything was okay. Earlier today Charles had given him that proper Granddad smile just like he always used to and asked him about school and for the shortest time everything had felt alright with Laurence going along with Charles’ belief that he was on the football team because Charles had seemed so proud. Even though it was a lie Laurence had loved the attention and his granddad’s happiness. In the real world he couldn’t make anyone who wasn’t bullying him notice him let alone be proud.<br/>In the final minute of his current existence Laurence finished listening out for Charles and having satisfied himself that all was quiet and well set off for his bedroom which in this big house was two floors up. Halfway up the second flight of stairs he was breathing hard and could hear a noise. It sounded like someone running.<br/>Twenty seconds to go and Laurence was at the top of the stairs and it was definitely someone running. It couldn’t be his mom because there was no reason why she would be, oh but wait, there was someone else in the house tonight, wasn’t there? He vaguely wondered what they were doing but didn’t really care as long as he was left alone however as he walked down the corridor the running got closer and closer.<br/>Ten seconds and a hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him around and Laurence was looking at a guy dressed up as his mom’s Lord of Misrule character. It was genius level cosplay, uncannily accurate. He flawlessly looked like one of her pictures come to life and even had coloured contacts lenses in to give himself striking, golden eyes with unusually wide pupils. In a second Laurence went from freaked out that someone he didn't know was right in his face to impressed. Then the guy rolled his head from side-to-side as if his vision was messed up and that that was the best way for him to try to see all of what was in front of him. It was a disconcerting gesture which made him look insane and Laurence went back to being freaked out. The guy stuck out his hand.<br/>Three.<br/>Two.<br/>One.<br/>“Hi kid! We’re gonna be friends!”<br/><br/>Lydia didn’t run after Beetlejuice. It was probably the final piece in the ‘you are a terrible parent’ jigsaw but when a demon who by even the most charitable standards was at least wildly unstable ran off to find her son she made no attempt to stop him. When she’d been fifteen she’d needed Beetlejuice. Hell, she’d only lived beyond that age because of him. Whatever else he’d done the dead guy had given her life. Besides, Lydia thought, what if everything happens for a reason?<br/>‘And now I’m channelling Delia,’ she said out loud. ‘And talking to myself.’<br/>She looked at the clock and resolved to give it a few minutes before going to check on whatever was happening.<br/>Maybe less if she heard screaming.<br/><br/>‘You are called Laurence, I am also called Lawrence. We have so much in common.’<br/>Wanting to be polite Laurence shook the guy’s hand surprised by how cold it felt. ‘Except you can call me the name your mom said everyone calls me, all my friends do. All of them like your mom and, yeah, anyhoo, I’ve been away for a while. What do we do for fun around here now? You’re young, you’re dumb, you’re full of - come on, there must be something crazy going on.’<br/>Laurence had no idea what was happening. Was Beetlejuice trying to hang out with him? This was all very not normal. He had to get away.<br/>‘I have homework,’ he lied, backing away and edging towards his bedroom. Beetlejuice sagged with disappointment in a way Laurence had never seen anyone do before. It was like the strings that were holding him up had been cut and Laurence, who was brave and kind in a way that came so easily to him that he didn’t think he was either of those things, tried to comfort this weird adult stranger.<br/>‘Are you okay?’ he asked and to his horror Beetlejuice’s eyes filled with tears.<br/>‘Am I...no one’s ever said that to me, not once. Not even my mom, she’s more like “Why are your nails black? You don't make me happy, booze does. I should've left before you were born.” Am I okay?' Beetlejuice straightened up and shot his cuffs before adjusting his tie. A final smooth down of his sleeves and he was ready. 'Well, new territory for me, very exciting, thanks for the opportunity. But it feels like a minefield and not a good one where the bombs explode with kittens but one where the bombs explode kittens.’<br/>‘I like your cosplay,’ Laurence said, way out of his depth but doing his best. ‘I’ve never seen anyone do him so well.’<br/>‘Cosplay,’ Beetlejuice echoed. ‘Tell me more.’<br/><br/>To distract herself Lydia went back to her laptop and was reading the news headlines when Beetlejuice skipped in like he was Red Riding Hood on her way to visit her granny. Red to match the colour of his hair. <br/>‘Hey girlfriend, how ya doin’?’ he said in a parody teen girl voice matched with exaggeratedly feminine body language. ‘Let’s hang out and talk about cute boys we’ve got crushes on and, oh, I don’t know, ask some questions.’ He went back to his normal growl. ‘I’ll go first.’<br/>He spun a chair around so it was backwards when he thumped down into it and folded his hands on the top of the backrest.<br/>‘Who <em>the fuck</em> is the Lord of Misrule?’<br/>Lydia wasn’t at all intimidated, somehow out of all the things Beetlejuice had made her feel scared had never been one of them. Whenever he'd yelled at her she'd always yelled right back and louder. <br/>‘You don’t understand,’ she said. <br/>‘I understand plenty like about the thing and the other thing and then Laurence had a tiny me on his phone and said you trapped him in there. Release the tiny me, you monster!’ <br/>‘God, you’re an idiot.’ <br/>‘Tiny me must be so lonely,’ Beetlejuice carried on. ‘I know what that’s like and it hurts.’ <br/>‘Did Laurence tell you I’m an artist?’<br/>Beetlejuice nodded. <br/>‘I take photographs and then add fantastical elements one of which is loosely based on you.’ <br/>‘I’m a fantastical element.’ Beetlejuice puffed up, clearly liking the title. ‘Sounds very believable. Go on.’ <br/>Lydia did. She made Beetlejuice sit next to her then opened up her website and talked him through internet basics as she showed him some of her portfolio while his hair slowly transitioned back to green. <br/>‘And it got more and more popular. Look.’ She typed “Lord of Misrule fanart” into Google and clicked image search. Countless photos, drawings, cosplay and animations appeared. ‘People love him.’ <br/>Beetlejuice reached out and touched his fingers to the screen, overwhelmed. <br/>‘They love me,' his voice trembled. 'I’m loved.’ <br/>‘They love him.’ <br/>‘It’s me. There’s no loosely here, you’ve spent your whole artist time recreating me.' He pointed at the laptop. 'Make it be one of yours again.’ When she clicked on a Lord of Misrule original he examined it closely. 'I thought I was forgotten but you’ve never stopped thinking about me.’ <br/>Lydia opened her mouth to deny it but it was true. In all her best work and that which she enjoyed creating the most he was front and centre. <br/>‘When you murdered me I took that as a fairly strong signal of dislike. And also proof of how surprisingly strong you are. You pushed that bad art through some stuff.’ He thumped his chest. ‘That is solid and you went through it like it was nothing. I would’ve told you I was impressed but you know the being in agony situation kind of screwed my ability to multitask.’ He smiled the bright smile of someone who didn’t so much have issues as the whole subscription. ‘Good job I’m over it and never think about it ever. I don’t even know what PTSD means but if I had to guess I’d say it was either a flavour enhancer or the kind of disease where how much fun you have contracting it depends very much on stamina, flexibility and cultural attitudes towards butt stuff.’ <br/>Last time they’d been together he’d called his fake game show ‘Life or Death’ but Lydia thought a better one for Beetlejuice would be ‘Is this bullshit?’ He rambled, he lied and his emotions cycled constantly. As a result it was very hard to work out when, if ever, he was being sincere. Even when his mood ring hair dropped major hints it was still sometimes difficult to believe him. <br/>'And finally today I see that you don’t hate me.’ <br/>‘I never did.’ <br/>‘And I know that now. Let’s get drunk and set fire to our teeth.’ <br/>Lydia laughed. For the first time in a long time she properly laughed. <br/>‘You’re so you,’ she said and Beetlejuice grinned. <br/>‘As much as I’m loving this,' he said. ‘You might want to see how the kid is doing. He seems a lot more buttoned up than you were back then so I thought the whole being dead thing might be too much on the first day.’ <br/>Lydia was impressed. For Beetlejuice that was unusually considerate. <br/>‘Agreed.’ <br/>‘I introduced myself in a way he could appreciate and enjoy.’ <br/>Lydia tensed up as she waited for him to explain because it was obviously going to be bad. <br/>‘I told him I’m your husband.’ </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The documentary Laurence watches is real and if you're a non-military person who likes being warm and comfortable like I am, it’s really quite shocking. What these guys do to become Royal Marines is unbelievable: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGzXJ3pRLQY&amp;list=PLu9v4Y_06RkQvR9nomSZ7U5bsrnsoGKET<br/>Never seen Beetlejuice being Red Riding Hood but if you're also an Alex Brightman fan you can see him doing just that right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3l6hRRMMzM</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Nachos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Adam and Barbara attempt to teach Beetlejuice something important, suits are discussed and Lydia learns more than she ever wanted to know about Katherine Hepburn.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When they were sure that it was safe Adam and Barbara stopped hiding and went back to their attic to sit and then pace and then sit and then pace some more. Their quiet well-ordered world tilted off its axis by the knowledge that Beetlejuice was back. They circled around and around the hows and the whys and the what ifs thoroughly unsettled.<br/>
And yet…<br/>
It was exciting. It was also horrible but it was something new and as much as they were disturbed by Beetlejuice’s presence they were both enjoying the energy that the disturbance brought. Adam watched in awe as Barbara strode around declaring ‘Maitlands 2.0’ and striking power poses ready to defend the household. She was magnificent and he thought, as he had thought times without number, about how lucky he was to have married his best friend and to be the man for whom ‘until death do us part’ had no meaning. He loved it when she took charge.<br/>
‘Getting a little steamed up there, Bow-wow’ he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her in for a kiss. ‘Fierce, rawwwr.’<br/>
Barbara fake-roared back in a way that caused Adam to bite his lip then leaned in. Sparks and spontaneity began to build but was soon derailed by shouting right outside their door.<br/>
‘What’s that, Lydia? All dead people must go in the attic? That’s so racist,’ Beetlejuice yelled, obviously having a conversation with no one but himself. ‘Whoa, language! You used to kiss your dead mom with that mouth? I don’t think Babs ‘n’ Ads are going to like it. Say again? Screw the Maitlands? Don't have to ask me twice-’<br/>
To shut him up Adam opened the attic door and Beetlejuice, who looked very pleased with his play acting, walked in.<br/>
‘Hi honey, I’m home.’ He gave Adam a kiss on the cheek. ‘Boy, what a day I’ve had. That Lydia she does go on.’<br/>
‘I don’t believe she sent you up here,’ Barbara said.<br/>
‘And I don’t believe this isn’t a good time for us to get naked.’<br/>
‘No!’<br/>
‘Worth a try.’<br/>
When they’d been alone Adam and Barbara had speculated on the extent of Beetlejuice’s powers and, looking at him now, Adam wasn’t sure if a subtle form of shapeshifting wasn’t among them. Objectively Beetlejuice was a little below average height and while far from the summit of Mount Obesity he'd definitely gone past base camp. However something happened when Adam looked at him, as if his eyes slid off the reality and instead saw a more formidable image. How else to explain the fact that Beetlejuice seemed to take up so much room? The attic was large and airy however Adam and Barbara had ended up in a corner while Beetlejuice effortlessly commanded centre stage.<br/>
‘I see you’ve taken your coat off,’ Adam said.<br/>
‘Making myself at home now I’m sticking around,’ Beetlejuice replied, tugging at his jacket until it was hanging to his satisfaction.<br/>
‘Are you staying for long?’ Barbara asked and Adam was so impressed with how she managed not to sound unhappy at the prospect.<br/>
‘Interesting question, almost like you want to get rid of me already,' Beetlejuice said. ‘And you know how. Get Lydia to say “I do”. Hey, maybe this time we can give it the old switcheroo and you can stab me through the heart and the blade can come out my back. I don’t mind, either way it’s going to <em>really </em>hurt.’<br/>
Taken in by Beetlejuice’s sudden sadness and the way he seemed to shrink in on himself Adam went towards him but Barbara held him back with ‘he’ll just try to kiss you or worse.’<br/>
It was like having a massive crocodile in the room and having to work out if its tears were genuine or a lure into a fatal encounter.<br/>
‘Sit down,’ Barbara commanded Beetlejuice in a voice that made Adam’s knees buckle a little too. ‘If you’re staying then we’re going to talk about consent. Do you know what that means?’<br/>
From the couch Beetlejuice said ‘Of course I know what a consent is, Barbara. It’s that animal you get when a groundhog and a wolf “butter a biscuit” together. Bites a lot, lives in the desert.’<br/>
‘There’s no such creature.’<br/>
Beetlejuice caught Adam’s eye and mouthed ‘there is’ and held his hands up like they were claws and bared his teeth in an impression of it. Adam couldn’t help but snort with laughter.<br/>
Five minutes later Beetlejuice had received a thorough introduction to consent and understood it well enough to ask at the end ‘May we participate in a celebration high five?’ before raising a palm. Neither Adam nor Barbara left him hanging.<br/>
‘Well done,’ Adam enthused. He loved learning and sharing his knowledge and this lesson had been a real success.<br/>
‘May I ask what happens now?’ Beetlejuice said.<br/>
‘Barbara and I are going to watch TV and we’re inviting you to join us.’ Adam decided it would be best to be bold and sat one side of Beetlejuice as Barbara sat on the other. Beetlejuice moved forward, rigid on the edge of the couch. Behind his back they exchanged bemused looks but decided to let it go. By the time they’d watched a few scenes of some cop drama Beetlejuice’s right leg was shaking, he stilled it with a hand and his left leg started to shake instead. He stilled that with his other hand and then his whole body began trembling violently.<br/>
‘May I say that this is bullshit?!’ He launched off the couch and confronted the Maitlands. ‘I’m supposed to just sit there in between you two dull but perfect beings with no touching and you want me to believe that that’s normal? What kind of sick freaks are you? You disgust me.’ Drawing himself up to stand straight, Beetlejuice grabbed the lapels of his jacket and nodded to Adam and then to Barbara. ‘Sir, Madam, I bid you goodnight.’ and he stalked out with his nose in the air.<br/>
‘That was…’ Adam thought about it for a second. ‘Not that bad for a first attempt.’<br/>
‘It was fun, I think,’ said Barbara.<br/>
With Beetlejuice gone they snuggled together.<br/>
‘He was fun last time, at the start. Those how to frighten the living lessons, he did try to help us. It’s just a shame that he turned into a murderous psychopath.’<br/>
‘But what is he now?’ Barbara wondered.<br/>
‘I don’t know but I don’t think it’ll be long before we all find out.’</p><p><br/>
Lydia didn’t believe in any form of god and there were times when that sucked. This was one of them because it would be quite nice to ask some higher power’s forgiveness for the lies she was probably about to tell her only child. <br/>
‘Laurence,’ she said outside his bedroom. ‘Let me in.’<br/>
Nothing.<br/>
‘I’m going to count to twenty and then I’m opening the door.’<br/>
She got to twelve before the door opened a crack and she looked up at Laurence whose eyes narrowed in suspicion.<br/>
‘I’m checking you’re alright. Beetlejuice might have said some things to you.’<br/>
‘Don’t know.’<br/>
‘Yes, you do.’ She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. ‘He told you me and him were married.’<br/>
‘He said you were his widow,’ Laurence supplied eventually. ‘Then he laughed for ages. Loudly.’<br/>
‘I knew him a long time ago.’ A statement that explained nothing but at least it wasn’t outright misleading.<br/>
‘Okay.’<br/>
‘We need to talk about this,’ she said. ‘He’s going to stay for the night and possibly tomorrow and I don’t want you to be upset.’<br/>
‘Won't be.’<br/>
Why was it always so hard for them to communicate? Laurence was obviously desperate to get away. Lydia let him shut the door and was almost at the stairs when she heard it open again.<br/>
‘Mom, wait.’<br/>
She did.<br/>
‘Is Beetlejuice like Granddad?’<br/>
‘No. What made you think that?’<br/>
‘He nearly cried and then he was laughing and then he got angry and it was all so fast. And Granddad does that sometimes so I wondered if we’re supposed to take care of Beetlejuice too.’<br/>
Even when he was trying to be friendly Beetlejuice could be scary and it said so much about Laurence that his first reaction was to think about looking after him. If Lydia hadn’t been sure that he’d reject it then she would’ve hugged Laurence tight.<br/>
‘Beetlejuice is nothing like Granddad,’ Lydia said, giving voice to the understatement of the century. ‘I think he’s been very lonely so he’s getting used to talking to people again.’<br/>
‘He’s good at cosplay,’ Laurence said.<br/>
‘Mmm,’ Lydia made a noncommittal noise as explanations lined up inside her mind and then marched off a cliff rather than be of any use. ‘He’s going to look like that tomorrow as well.’<br/>
Laurence didn’t react. Tomorrow only meant one thing to him.<br/>
‘Do I have to go to school?’<br/>
‘Yes.’<br/>
Conversation killed by the mention of the place Laurence hated the most he closed his door.</p><p><br/>
When Lydia next saw Beetlejuice he was lying on the floor more or less where he’d died but this time he was face up.<br/>
‘I am so bored,’ he said. ‘This is a boring house.’<br/>
‘Feel free to leave at any point. Wait, how do you leave?’<br/>
He held up his left hand and pointed to his ring finger.<br/>
‘That can’t be the only way.’<br/>
‘What if it is?’ Beetlejuice scrambled to his knees. ‘Got the stones to do it again?’<br/>
Lydia leaned down so that they were nose-to-nose.<br/>
‘Any day of the week.’<br/>
He fell back onto his hands.<br/>
‘I knew that,’ he giggled nervously. ‘Just checking.’<br/>
‘You can stay for tonight.’<br/>
‘Yes!’ He leapt up. ‘Sleepover! Ooh, ooh, order a pizza. Let’s do pepperoni, mushrooms and snakes again. I love that one. Have you got a small dog? I know a joke with a little yapper that’s hilarious. Not so much if you’re the dog. But first let’s make this place more us.’<br/>
Beetlejuice raised his hands above his head and slowly brought them down. As he did, the decor in the lounge changed from country chic to the black and white of Beetlejuice’s personal aesthetic.<br/>
Lydia laughed, it was still an extremely good trick but she couldn’t let the room stay that way and told him so. He pouted then changed it back.<br/>
‘Even the couch?’<br/>
‘No.' She decided that one new thing wouldn’t be the end of the world and it was such a remarkable piece of furniture with its stripes and points.<br/>
‘Everyone loves the couch,’ he said and jumped on it bouncing happily. ‘Come on, you know you want to.’<br/>
Lydia went to say that she didn’t. That she was forty and that forty year olds did not bounce on couches. That she couldn’t because what would she say if anyone saw her and a lot of other things but then her body overrode her brain and she jumped.<br/>
‘Yeah, Lydia! Go, go, go!’ Beetlejuice encouraged, they joined hands as they bounced higher before nodding to each other and landing back on the floor.<br/>
What am I doing? Lydia thought. We’re playing, adults don’t play. Time to return to earth. She told Beetlejuice she needed to show him the guest room and while he frowned at the change of tempo he did join her upstairs.<br/>
The guest room was a great space. Charles and Delia had done a lot of entertaining in their time and this room and its bathroom were casually luxurious with high end furniture and a cream and pastel blue colour scheme. Beetlejuice blended in about as well as a walrus in a production of Swan Lake. <br/>
‘I’ll see if Laurence has any clothes you can borrow. They’ll be far too big but they’ll do.’<br/>
‘I’ve got my suit.’<br/>
‘I meant to sleep in or just relax in. You can’t always wear your suit.’<br/>
‘But it’s my suit,’ Beetlejuice said and it seemed like he wasn’t trying to be difficult, more like be understood.<br/>
‘I’ve seen you wear other clothes.’<br/>
He clicked his fingers; game show host, another click, wedding outfit, another click, back to as he was.<br/>
‘It’s my suit,’ he said again and pulled his tie straight then patted down his shirt.<br/>
Up close Lydia could see that the stripes were all similar in width but not equal and not all wholly black. There were different fabrics and patterns within them so that in some places they almost shone while in others they were more like scales. In a few areas, most prominently on his left cuff there were large stitches and thinking about their angle and shape she realised that Beetlejuice had done running repairs without taking his suit off.<br/>
‘You made it yourself,’ she said.<br/>
‘When I was small Mom was going to buy me like a whole wardrobe full of fancy clothes but I guess she forgot for my whole life so I learned how.’<br/>
‘It needs cleaning.’<br/>
‘It does not.’ Beetlejuice looked appalled at the idea. ‘I’m not a breather. It doesn't get messed up. No sweat, no grease, nothing gross comes out of me.’<br/>
‘Apart from most things you say.’ Lydia tried again. ‘It’s got mold on it. You’ve got mold on you.’<br/>
‘And you’ve got mold on you!’ Beetlejuice shot back reflexively without thinking. ‘I mean maybe. I’m not stupid, this conversation’s stupid.’<br/>
‘You’re right,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll leave you here to do whatever it is that you do. If you want anything from the kitchen just go down and help yourself.’<br/>
‘Is that it then, the big reunion’s over? That was a long drive for a short time at the beach.’<br/>
‘See you tomorrow.’<br/>
Beetlejuice brightened immediately.<br/>
'Tomorrow. That’s always my favourite day.’</p><p>Hours later Lydia jolted out of a dream that faded from her memory the second she opened her eyes. It was still dark. She reached for the clock on the bedside table and pressed its light, it was four forty-two. She would’ve gone straight back to sleep but a sixth sense told her that something was off. Her first thought was of her dad. Like most carers she was now a light sleeper and more than once had woken up convinced she could hear him calling for help only to find him peacefully sleeping when she’d rushed in. To listen out for Charles Lydia kept her bedroom door open, reluctant to infantilize him and start using baby monitors. For his benefit there was a dim light in the corridor. Though the stage where he’d restlessly wandered had ended some time ago she still turned it on every night. Lydia glanced at the doorway and saw that the light was now softly highlighting Beetlejuice who was sitting with his back against one edge of the frame, boots against the other and arms on his raised knees. He didn’t look in any way comfortable and was apparently just staring straight ahead at nothing.<br/>
‘Beej.’<br/>
He moved his head in her direction, inhuman eyes glowing in the near darkness.<br/>
‘Mornin’ Lyds.’<br/>
‘And this situation is?’<br/>
‘Last time, we were having such a good time I didn’t want to miss a second of it, so I’d wait here then I’d know when you were up and we were about to do more amazing things.’ His wistful tone changed to a more serious one. ‘It wasn’t creepy, I always left before you started moving and I wasn’t watching you. Just watching out for you. Big twenty-four carat, ocean-going, copper-bottomed difference. You were a child, watching you would’ve been a million miles from okay.’<br/>
‘I know.’ And she did. They’d been alone together in the house for a few days. If Beetlejuice was a predator then he would have had ample opportunity to attack but all he’d ever wanted to do was have fun.<br/>
‘And now, no offence, m’lady but you’re no Katherine Hepburn.’<br/>
‘She your dream girl?’<br/>
‘She’s my dream woman. She does not take any shit. It's brutal! And afterwards, yes, you're sore but it’s more intense than that like you're diminished as a whole person. And yet somehow also curiously grateful. Never been able to figure it out. I think she’s always up for it because I’m double-jointed.’<br/>
It was far too early in the morning for demons in doorways and allegedly insatiable Hollywood legends. Lydia knew there was no point in telling Beetlejuice to move so she said good night and settled back under the covers.<br/>
As she was drifting off she heard Beetlejuice mutter to himself a word she didn’t quite catch but it sounded a lot like “nachos” then he made a noise between a chuckle and a deep satisfied growl.<br/>
‘Never tell me,’ she ordered and went back to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Talking of suits, the Guardian published a great picture of Beetlejuice's Broadway costume designer William Ivey Long this week. It's part of a small gallery and worth a scroll down to. Take a look at what's in his hands. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2021/mar/18/new-yorkers-at-home-sally-davies-in-pictures</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Poppies for Alice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Laurence learns the truth about life and death and Beetlejuice yearns for Walmart.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lydia was next woken up by her alarm. Reaching out to kill it she heard a frantic scrabbling as if someone had been sitting still for a long time and was now launching themselves vertical as fast as possible. Then they scurried away leaving a trace of a mad little song in the air as they went<br/>
‘Tomorrow is here so now it’s today. Which is not the same obviously. And nothing’s rhyming because it’s too early skibedee-dee-bee…’<br/>
Beetlejuice returning was probably not going to resolve itself quickly so Lydia made a mental note to talk to him about where he was going to be when she was sleeping and then started her day.<br/>
Every morning in this house two breakfasts took place. The first was a rushed grab and go affair that Lydia and Laurence were capable of getting through without exchanging more than ten words. Hydration was all that mattered and food, if it happened, was eaten standing up and often straight from the box. This was breakfast as Lydia had known it for most of her life. Her mom and dad had been very much clutch a steaming mug as if it was the answer to everything and keep quiet until the caffeine kicks in people and when Lydia had early in childhood announced that eating breakfast made her feel crappy all attempts at making it a proper meal were abandoned to everyone’s relief.<br/>
The one break in the pattern had been Delia. Every morning she’d cooked something from scratch, usually on weekdays porridge made from oats she’d left soaking overnight and on the weekends pancakes or huevos rancheros. There was always fruit and yoghurt and fresh bread and the table was laid. At first this had been more fuel on the ‘I hate Dad’ bonfire as Lydia had raged at seeing Charles sat there tucking into a full plate and having actual conversations as if it had always been this way. As if those scrappy, casual mornings with her mom had never happened. However later with distance and time Lydia had looked back full of admiration for Delia and her efforts seeing her breakfasts for the practical application of love that they were.<br/>
Normally Lydia had time to herself first thing but now she had Beetlejuice who’d never mastered the art of volume control.<br/>
‘You’re bright!’ He all but yelled when she walked into the kitchen reaching into a pocket then putting on a pair of shades to underline his point. ‘I’m blinded by your lack of goth.’<br/>
Lydia supposed that in yoga pants that claimed to be a colour called ripened raspberry and a turquoise long sleeve she did look a world away from who she’d once been.<br/>
‘Is goth how you’ve remembered me?’<br/>
‘Certainly is, small kid, big boots, black dress, <em> huuuuuuge </em> attitude. And lots of metal, guess you finally ran out of safety pins.’<br/>
‘I remembered you,’ Lydia looked at Beetlejuice, the suit, the hair, the black nails that last time she’d thought was polish until he’d told her that that was their natural colour, 'exactly as you are right now.’<br/>
He grinned. ‘Visual perfection has been my one companion through the centuries.’<br/>
A few minutes later Laurence zombied in bleary and pale no doubt from lack of sleep. Lydia remembered the conflict well. A school system that demanded teenagers be active hours before what would be a healthy wake up time for developing brains versus screens. She recalled endless nights of not really taking anything in but scrolling and scrolling to deaden her mind. The clock would tick on as she waded through a dense fog of content seeking numbness sometimes until gone three am despite being required to be sat at a desk by seven forty-five five days a week. Tired though he seemed, Laurence remembered his manners and said a polite good morning to Beetlejuice and didn’t react too much when he got close and walked with him to the fridge to see what he was getting.<br/>
‘What’s that?’<br/>
‘It’s an energy drink. Mom, can I?’<br/>
The right answer was absolutely not. It was bad enough that she let him have one when he came home from school and who knew how many he drank when he was there but Beetlejuice’s presence was making it an odd morning so Lydia cut Laurence some slack and nodded.<br/>
He popped the can and at her prompt poured the contents into a glass. Beetlejuice sniffed it.<br/>
‘No booze. Only cocktails should be that colour,’ he said. ‘That’s not a drink. What’s in it?’<br/>
Ever thorough Laurence read the ingredients off the can stumbling over words like cyanocobalamin and glucuronolactone ending with ‘...fifty-four grams of carbohydrates, three hundred and fifty milligrams of caffeine and fifty-eight grams of sugar.’<br/>
‘Holy crap,’ Beetlejuice said. ‘I’d worry about what that could do to me and I’m dead.’<br/>
‘You mean you feel dead in the mornings,’ Lydia said urgently.<br/>
‘I’m dead twenty-four seven, time of day’s got nothing to do with it. What’s that signal supposed to mean? Cut my own throat? Jesus, Lyds, that’s bleak. Do a stupid karate chop? What, what do you want from me?’<br/>
‘I want you to shut up.’<br/>
‘Why?’<br/>
‘Because you’re scaring him.’<br/>
Laurence stood looking worried and confused and Lydia saw Beetlejuice go to say something, no doubt to brag about how great he was at scaring people so she said ‘And you are <em> never </em> to do that. Got it?’<br/>
Beetlejuice cowered away, almost losing his balance, tripping not just over his feet but his words as he frantically assured her that he had in fact got it.<br/>
‘Mom, I don’t understand.’<br/>
‘It’s alright, newest buddy,’ Beetlejuice said, more gently than Lydia had heard him say anything. ‘Death just needs a little conversation. And you can’t tell me that Lydia Deetz’s son didn’t grow up spooky. There must’ve been things going bump in the night.’<br/>
‘We used to have the best Halloween house,’ Laurence supplied, he glanced over at Lydia with a smile she’d not seen in some time. ‘Remember?’<br/>
‘Of course.’<br/>
‘It was so much fun. And the ghost walks.’<br/>
‘Two of my actor friends used to do ghost tours in Greenwich Village,’ Lydia told Beetlejuice. ‘When he was small one holiday Laurence had a gig as the ghost of a child labourer who’d died in a factory fire.’<br/>
‘I got paid a dollar a scream,’ he added with pride.<br/>
‘Well, there’s lots there to use,’ Beetlejuice enthused. ‘We’re all comfortable with ghosts and hauntings so I’ll make it real easy. Hands up who in this room is alive.’<br/>
He jumped onto a chair and made an up gesture and cajoling Lydia and Laurence into action and once they each had a hand in the air he pointed to himself tilting his body to show off from as many angles as possible just how not raised his hand was.<br/>
‘This can’t be-’ Laurence tried to cut in but Beetlejuice ignored him.<br/>
‘Death isn’t the end,’ he said. ‘All the stuff some breathers claim happens next is made up to control people, none of that’s real. There’s no judgement or gods or devils. No good place, no bad place but there is somewhere people go next. Humans are born, they sit in traffic, they talk about reality TV then they die and go to the Netherworld.’<br/>
Lydia put an arm around Laurence, that he let her and leaned in a little proved how strung out he was.<br/>
‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘It’s okay to be scared but we’re not lying to you. I promise.’<br/>
‘Let me show you what I mean about no ending. You know how to take a pulse, kid?’ Beetlejuice asked. He offered a wrist. ‘Take mine.’<br/>
Laurence shook his head. <br/>
‘No, thank you.’<br/>
Despite his tension Lydia knew that there was something else Laurence needed to know right now.<br/>
‘Beetlejuice isn’t cosplaying. He’s always going to look like that.’<br/>
‘Why?’<br/>
‘One, it’s a killer look,’ Beetlejuice said, tugging his tie straight then shaking out his jacket. ‘Come on, man. Respect the threads. And two because I’m not and never have been alive. Well, apart from the weirdest seventy-two seconds ever. I’m a demon from the Netherworld, a born dead. You look like a one of you. I look like a one of me.’<br/>
Lydia felt Laurence stiffen as he hit his limit.<br/>
‘I have to go,’ he said, starting to escape. ‘I’ll be late for school.’<br/>
‘It’s up to you,’ she said. ‘You can go to school but if you want you can go upstairs and have some time and then once Granddad’s up and settled we can talk some more.’<br/>
There were no circumstances under which Laurence would refuse a day off and he accepted Lydia’s offer.<br/>
‘Take something with you.’<br/>
Laurence reached for the energy drink before pausing and pouring it away. He refilled the glass with water then grabbed an apple and a banana before fleeing.<br/>
‘He’s gained enlightenment and breakfast,’ said Beetlejuice with admiration. ‘That kid is shit hot at mornings.’ </p><p>Breakfast number two was for Charles who got up much later and Lydia used some of the time before he woke to talk to Beetlejuice about him.<br/>
‘Do you know what Alzheimer’s disease is?’<br/>
‘It’s the one where mountain laurels grow on your spleen and out your nipples.’<br/>
Beetlejuice’s massive levels of confidence had always made her smile. He said the stupidest things but he said them so well.<br/>
‘There's no universe where that's a one. Alzheimer’s is a type of dementia which…’<br/>
Braced to give a lengthy explanation with diagrams if necessary Lydia was relieved by how quickly he understood.<br/>
‘Seen it before,’ he told her. ‘Here. The family that had this place built. When the kids had gone and it was just the Harrisons and their servants left they got old and she lost her mind.’<br/>
Apart from Barbara and Adam Lydia had never thought about who else had owned this house and she felt a rush of sympathy for its first occupants. Her dad’s illness was hard enough to handle with all the benefits of 21st century medicine and a more progressive society which meant there was no judgement or shame in what was happening. She couldn’t imagine how much worse, how isolating, the Harrisons’ experience would have been two hundred years before.<br/>
‘She was the best singer this house ever had,’ Beetlejuice said. ‘All Jesus songs but beautiful.’ He pointed into the living room. ‘They had a spinet in there by the window and she’d play it and before it all went to shit they’d have neighbours over for hymn singing. Her best one was the..er...dogology? Doxology! That’s it. She’d hit notes way, way up there and it felt, I don’t know, it felt like even though no one could see me and I’d been alone for hundreds and hundreds of years when she sang everything felt sort of okay.’<br/>
Emotions always on full display Beetlejuice unselfconsciously wiped tears from his eyes. Whether he was crying for the woman he’d watched decline or the pain of his past isolation Lydia had no idea but it was moving nevertheless.<br/>
‘What was her name?’<br/>
‘Alice. She was Alice, he was Charles.'<br/>
They shared a look to acknowledge the coincidence.<br/>
‘They’re bound to be buried in town. I’ll find her grave and put some flowers on it for you.’<br/>
‘Yeah, why not? Show ol’ Alice some appreciation. She liked poppies the best.’<br/>
‘Poppies for Alice. Beats going to Walmart.’<br/>
‘I would love to go to a Walmart.’<br/>
‘And there’s no way it’s going to be for a sane reason.’<br/>
‘I think you’re underestimating me.’<br/>
‘I think you’re about to say something really, really strange. But, hang on, is the weather outside for you still sandworm?’<br/>
Beetlejuice nodded.<br/>
‘That’s better than Walmart, trust me,’ Lydia told him. And then she couldn’t help but feel guilty when he quietly replied.<br/>
‘I always have.’<br/>
<br/>
In the end, to Lydia’s relief, Charles being reacquainted with Beetlejuice went without a hitch. Charles was preoccupied today, tense and not talking and nothing she said as she got him through his morning routine could bring him back from it. He sat in front of his toast and juice glowering and didn’t comment when a demon stood before him rolling his head from side to side in curiosity.<br/>
‘Hey Charles, I’m-’<br/>
‘Beetlejuice,’ Lydia supplied without breaking his flow.<br/>
‘What she said. So pleased to finally get to meet the head of the house.’<br/>
That got Charles’ attention.<br/>
‘Working all the hours the good lord sends and doing right by your family. You’re a real man’s man. I tell ya they don’t make many of them these days. It’s an honour, put it there.’<br/>
Charles slightly raised a shaking hand and Beetlejuice took it in his and acted as if his bones were being crushed.<br/>
‘Wow! Hell of grip you got there, Chuck.’<br/>
Charles gave a satisfied smile.<br/>
‘Thanks for letting me stay,’ Beetlejuice said. ‘Don’t mind telling you I was in a tight spot and you've opened your home to me. And, sir, I just appreciate the hell out of that. Y’all done right by me and I won’t ever forget it so I won’t.’<br/>
For some unknown reason Beetlejuice’s voice had slipped into a Southern drawl but whatever the accent Lydia could see that her dad was enjoying his words.<br/>
‘Well, I best be moseying along. Got to let the Big Board out of her paddock and, uh, get some NASDAQs branded and, um, dehorn some NYMEXs?’ Beetlejuice’s farming and financial nonsense rose into a question as he ran out of things to say. He looked at Lydia and shrugged.<br/>
Charles nodded and twitched his right hand. Beetlejuice made their second handshake into a bigger performance than the first which resulted in Charles chuckling and Beetlejuice laughing along with him before tipping an imaginary hat to Charles and to Lydia and wandering off. He was at the doorway when she said:<br/>
‘Beej, thanks.’<br/>
He turned, placed a hand over his heart and bowed. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The onstage Beetlejuice takes a bow - https://imaging.broadway.com/images/custom/w1200/108454-14.jpg<br/>So much love for all the curtain call pictures and YouTubes out there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Salute and a Side Hustle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Barbara and Adam learn more about the Netherworld, Lydia and Laurence talk to each other properly and Beetlejuice insists Laurence take a "man test".</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After time to themselves in the morning Adam and Barbara liked to come downstairs to hang out with Lydia then watch Charles for her while she did some work. It didn’t matter if Laurence was around as he spent almost all his time shut away in his room so there was no real risk of him finding his mom seemingly talking to thin air. The Maitlands walked into the kitchen to be greeted by the sight of Beetlejuice with his legs hooked over the top of the pantry door hanging upside down from it like a colossal malformed bat. They both asked why.<br/>‘It’s important to stretch,’ he replied, shifting about until there was a horrible wet cracking noise that sounded as if it would be painful if not fatal in a living being but made Beetlejuice sigh with pleasure. ‘The view from this angle is alright but it would be better if I was longer then I’d be level with the goods.’<br/>He reached out to grab Adam’s crotch then stopped.<br/>‘May I fondle your Martha and the Vandellas?’<br/>‘No!’<br/>‘Okay.’ Beetlejuice let his hand drop. ‘Dullsville but okay. What shall we do instead?’<br/>‘To be honest,’ said Barbara. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing how you’re going to get down from there.'<br/>Beetlejuice pointed and a version of himself appeared standing in the sink grinning wildly. More pointing and others arrived. One was lying on the floor with his legs in the air, another swung off the light while another deftly balanced on the backrest of one of the chairs and so on until there were eight of them plus the original who, Adam realised, was in control. In gestures alone Beetlejuice directed his chittering selves to pull him off the door and carry him shoulder high to the kitchen table onto which he was deposited with great ceremony and then lay with his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his chest as if he was a corpse and this was his open-casket viewing. He snapped his fingers and the other Beetlejuice’s vanished. It was shocking, fascinating and over in less than a minute.<br/>‘That was incredible,’ Adam said.<br/>‘Standard practice,’ Beetlejuice said casually.<br/>‘Can we learn to do that, learn something new?’ Barbara asked, her tone striking a chord with Adam. There was so little variety in their existence. <br/>‘Sorry, my wholesome hotness, demons only but don’t get hung up about it,’ Beetlejuice advised, still corpse-like. ‘It’s not like in the Netherworld it would get you on ‘Death’s Got Talent’ or anything.’<br/>‘Strange to think there’s talent shows in the afterlife,’ said Adam.<br/>‘There’s everything in the afterlife. The second part of that word is kind of a big giveaway.’<br/>‘Lydia and Charles said it was just darkness and squares.’<br/>‘At the start sure it is but they were like inside a leaf thinking that was it and not getting that the leaf is a tiny part of the rainforest.’<br/>It was curious imagery to use speaking as it did of greenness and a teeming complex ecosystem when Adam always associated the Netherworld with pitch-black nothing.<br/>‘What’s there?’ he asked.<br/>‘All of it,’ Beetlejuice replied. ‘First place you go to is the City, so boroughs and bodegas and all that jazz. Piano bars and play parks-’<br/>‘Play parks for children?’<br/>Beetlejuice abandoned posing as dead for simply being dead and sat up. ‘Of course children, A-is-for-absolutely-bangable. Rugrats account for a lot of infrastructure; schools, playstuff, toy stores, adoption centres. Wait, which of those made you both do that face? It was ‘toy stores’ right? I agree. The cost of a cool LEGO set these days is insane.’<br/>‘No, that wasn’t it,’ said Adam and Barbara’s hand was in his as soon as he reached for it. He pulled her close, a mutual need for strength and connection in the face of a reality that touched on soul deep longing. Logically there had to be children in the Netherworld without families but he’d never taken the next step and figured out that if there were children there then someone had to look after them. Someone had to love them.<br/>‘I mostly see kids at schools,’ Beetlejuice prattled on, seemingly unable to read the shift in mood. ‘Got a side hustle as a speaker on career days. They always have an inspiration and a terrible warning. Last time it was me and Marie Curie.’<br/>‘No need to ask which was which.’<br/>‘Right. Imagine wasting your whole life in a lab and only getting stupid bits of paper with things like ‘Nobel Prize’ written on them for it. Pointless. I hope as many kids as possible learn from her example and steer well clear.’<br/>‘Is it a profitable side hustle?’ Barbara wondered in the voice of someone who didn’t want to know but couldn’t stop themselves. Beetlejuice was a lot of things and horribly compelling was near the top of the list.<br/>‘Totes is! You get all sorts of cool perks like to be indoors somewhere safe and a drink and maybe a cookie too. Then when I do the talk the kids look right at me and once Epictetus gave me twenty bucks and wrote an address down for me but I lost it or the pocket police-’<br/>‘The who?’ Adam had an image of a miniature police force and their cloth precinct house but was sure that that couldn’t be it.<br/>‘Mom says I can’t be trusted with possessions so sometimes she sends her goons to empty my pockets and “demonstrate how much she still cares” so they took the card away or afterwards it had too much blood on it or something. Anyway I <em>love </em>career days.’<br/>Adam had no idea how to react to any of that but happily for him Barbara did.<br/>‘Beetlejuice,’ she said. ‘May I give you a hug?’<br/>He looked confused by her request then nodded.<br/>Watching Barbara sit on the table next to Beetlejuice then lean over to hold him tight somehow made Adam feel a little better too.</p><p><br/>Laurence was having the strangest day of his life but as it hadn’t involved school he was rolling with it. The first thing he’d done when he’d got to his room was google ‘Netherworld’ but that just got him links to bars and video games so then he tried ‘afterlife’ and ‘demons’ but nothing he saw seemed right. The demon sites were horrific and gory. There was no resemblance between those gross, torturing creatures and Beetlejuice who definitely seemed weird but also came across as human and not some malevolent other that only wanted to destroy. And all the afterlife content went hard on judgement and punishment when he’d said that wasn’t right as if he was stating a fact about a real place. Everyone thinks about what happens after death and Laurence was no different. There was religion, none of which he’d ever been a part of, and ouija boards and people who claimed they could talk to the dead and so much more. What was missing was proof. No one, whether they were the pope or a town fair psychic, ever had any scientific proof and it blew his mind to think that now there was some and that it was friends with his mom.<br/>‘Why didn’t you ever say?’ he asked when she came to talk to him.<br/>‘Because I haven’t seen Beetlejuice since I was your age and without someone you can see none of it sounds believable.’<br/>He liked talking with his mom like this. It had been ages since she looked at him as if he was a person and not a problem. He knew he let her down but couldn’t tell her so. He wanted to say so much about how he wasn’t stupid and was aware he wasn’t good at anything. That he couldn’t do better at school because all that happened there was being ignored or being bullied for being so fat. And that it got so bad that he had nightmares about walking the halls and once or twice sincerely wished he could go to sleep and not wake up rather than face another day of it. He wanted his mom, not to fix it because he didn’t think she could but to just be there for him. Yet somehow he never found the words so in the end it had become easier to not to say anything to her at all.<br/>Now they were talking and it was big talk, life and death, and it felt like they were on the same wavelength. She asked him if he was scared and Laurence answered truthfully that he wasn’t. It was exciting to know that there was more out there than his shitty existence.<br/>‘I always wanted the Lord of Misrule to be real,’ he told her. ‘When I was really little I thought he was because he was all over your studio and at the gallery.’<br/>‘You used to ask me where he was.’<br/>‘And the monster,’ said Laurence remembering the picture of hers that had most enchanted him as a preschooler. It depicted his favourite figure sitting in a crowded subway car surrounded by exhausted looking commuters all scrolling on their phones with blank expressions. While in exactly the same pose as his fellow passengers instead of a phone he had a small shaggy-furred monster in his right hand and his face was alight with joy as he used his left index finger to smooth its tummy. ‘I wanted us all to be friends.’<br/>Laurence had grown up with Beetlejuice everywhere. There’d never been a time when he hadn’t known what he looked like, he’d just never known his name. The familiarity made it so much easier not to be worried by the three-dimensional version who’d now appeared.<br/>‘Half of that’s going to happen,’ said Lydia. ‘Beetlejuice might be staying for a while.’<br/>‘Good.’ </p><p>Much later Laurence went to grab his dinner to eat alone in his room as always but Beetlejuice was sat at a table laid for four and whooped with delight when Laurence walked in.<br/>‘Now we’re getting started! Just need us some Charles action and we’re all set.’<br/>‘Granddad eats early,’ Laurence said. ‘He gets tired.’<br/>‘Well he’s been a’Charlesin’ for decades,’ said Beetlejuice. ‘That would exhaust anyone.’<br/>The meal that followed was pretty good. Laurence usually regarded Mom food as something to get through before he spent the night eating all his favourite snacks but tonight he enjoyed it and there was conversation with Beetlejuice teasing her in a way Laurence had never seen anyone do. And she teased right back, deadpan and fierce. It was a whole other side of her and he liked it.<br/>After their pasta there was fruit and Greek yoghurt.<br/>‘Looks good,’ said Beetlejuice. ‘Shiny and blue.’’<br/>‘You want to eat the container, don’t you?’’ Lydia said like it was the most normal thing in the world.<br/>‘It’s calling to me and saying how much it would love to be in my mouth.’ He lost his thread for a second. ‘Suddenly thinking about Katherine Hepburn again,’ he muttered before shaking his head as if to wake himself back up. ‘I think I need it.’<br/>The yoghurt label had an image of a sunny Mediterranean sky on it and didn’t in any way look like food, unless you were Beetlejuice, Laurence conceded, as he watched him rip into the plastic then delicately nibble on a piece. Beetlejuice caught the look and tore off part of the cardboard sleeve.<br/>‘Sharesies,’ he said, holding it out.<br/>‘I don’t eat that but thanks.’<br/>‘Ever tried it? Won’t know until you try. I’ve had better but it’s got a tang to it.’<br/>Drawn in, Laurence took a bite and the unfamiliar texture made him immediately want to spit it out but Beetlejuice’s eyes were on him so he chewed it once, twice releasing a bitter synthetic flavour.<br/>‘Now swallow,’ Beetlejuice urged. ‘Always swallow, everyone likes a swallower.’ He looked at Lydia. ‘Is it too soon to say why?’<br/>‘Yes!’<br/>Laurence swallowed and reached for his water. He’d drunk a lot with his meal as he was hoping that his mom and Beetlejuice would notice that it wasn't an energy drink and throw some praise his way but neither of them did.<br/>Lydia left to check on Charles and Beetlejuice leapt up, ready for action.<br/>‘What do we do now? It’s Friday night, the big one. What’s going to happen?’<br/>‘Um…’<br/>‘What would you like to happen?’<br/>‘Er….’<br/>‘Okay kid, we’re gonna zoom out so I’ve got something I can work with. What do you, L-magnifico, want to do with your life?’<br/>‘I want to be a pararescue.’ <br/>‘A paralegal?’<br/>‘A pararescue.’<br/>‘A parascender?’<br/>‘A pararescue.’<br/>‘A parasaurolophus?’<br/>‘A pararescue.’<br/>‘Who’s she?’<br/>Laurence had never shared his dream with anyone. This was the first time he’d even said the word out loud. ‘They’re Air Force Special Warfare, they can do everything: parachuting, scuba diving, rock climbing, desert, jungle and arctic survival. They have incredible combat skills and they’re paramedics.’<br/>‘Soldiers,’ grunted Beetlejuice unimpressed. ‘I say this with love but y’all don’t strike me as the shooting people kind.’<br/>‘It’s not, it’s rescue. Whenever an injured member of the military needs help in hostile territory they go and get them and treat them. Anywhere in the world.’ Laurence breathed the pararescue motto with awe. ‘“<em>That others may live</em>.”’<br/>‘You want to put it all on the line for people you don’t know?’<br/>‘Yes.’<br/>‘Don’t get it.’<br/>‘I just think,’ Laurence said, feeling awkward. ‘That when someone cries for help someone else should answer.’<br/>Beetlejuice opened his mouth to reply then closed it. After a moment of thought gathering he had another go.<br/>‘You’re spinning my moral compass here but let’s start. First steps to being a one of these, hit me.’<br/>‘I can’t be one.’<br/>That caused Beetlejuice to whine in frustration. ‘Then why have we just wasted hours and hours and hours talking about it?’<br/>‘There’s a fitness test.’<br/>‘Pass it.’<br/>‘I can’t.’<br/>Beetlejuice looked him up and down. ‘Is it tomorrow?’<br/>Laurence said that it wasn't.<br/>‘Then don’t worry. I <em>like</em> the shape you are now. It’s a good shape for being a brilliant Laurence but a brilliant Laurence who is also a para-awesome has to be a different good shape.’<br/>‘That's right.’<br/>‘What else does he have to be?’<br/>‘Very comfortable with being outdoors and uncomfortable.’ said Laurence quoting a documentary he’d watched.<br/>‘Alright! Now we’ve got tonight’s plan.’ Beetlejuice bounced up and down utterly thrilled. ‘Time for your first man test. We’re gonna spend the night on the roof. Let’s gooooooo!’<br/>A million objections crashed into Laurence’s mind. He couldn’t be outside all night. Except there was nothing stopping him, he’d just never tried to be before now.<br/>Beetlejuice charged off and after a moment’s hesitation Laurence hurried after him as fast as he could.<br/><br/>A few minutes later Laurence stepped out onto the roof hurt when Beetlejuice didn’t look pleased.<br/>‘What is all that crap?’<br/>Laurence put his backpack, sleeping bag and pillows down.<br/>‘You said we’d be out here all night so I brought supplies.’<br/>‘Good idea. Hey, pass me a pillow.’<br/>Laurence did and then went wide-eyed as Beetlejuice threw it off the roof.<br/>‘Too comfy! Now you.’<br/>Mom’s going to go ape, Laurence thought. But on the other hand it looked like fun. He skyed his pillow and Beetlejuice clapped.<br/>‘Next.’<br/>‘Sleeping bag.’<br/>‘Too comfy!’<br/>Away it went.<br/>Laurence opened his backpack and Beetlejuice judged everything in it apart from water and an extra hoodie as too comfy and encouraged Laurence to join him in flinging it all off the roof. It was only some fast reactions on Laurence’s part that prevented his phone being part of it. After some negotiation he was permitted to turn it off and put it inside on the attic window ledge instead.<br/>Beetlejuice sat on the step so Laurence sat nearby. It was getting dark and the temperature was far lower than he’d first thought.<br/>‘Now this,’ said Beetlejuice with relish. ‘Is uncomfortable. You’re gonna hate it around midnight.’<br/>‘Why?’<br/>‘It’s going to rain.’<br/>They lapsed into silence. After a while Laurence was afraid his brain was going to break. He always had a distraction; some music, a game, something to read or watch but without a screen there was nothing. It made him feel tired and super-restless all at the same time.<br/>‘Maybe we should’ve told your mom where we are,’ Beetlejuice mused.<br/>Any excuse to go back inside was fine by Laurence. ‘I’ll go and tell her.’<br/>‘Nice try, you’re not going anywhere.’<br/>‘What if I need the bathroom?’<br/>‘Piss off the roof. Just don’t fall when you get close to the edge.’<br/>Did he mean that? Laurence was shocked. He couldn’t.<br/>‘There’s not many bathrooms in war type shooty rescue situations,’ Beetlejuice opined. He moved so his back was against the wall then stretched out his legs and closed his eyes.<br/>‘Are you going to sleep?’ Laurence was definitely going to lose his mind through boredom if that happened.<br/>‘Nope, just settling in. That’s how you get through being uncomfortable, you can’t change it so you settle in and it passes. Everything ends sometime. Even when your mom sends her squad out and - never mind. Let’s just say they do leave and eventually you heal up enough to pull yourself out of the dumpster, you always do. But then you end up back in it because it’s somewhere to be and the only alternative is her house but at least you’ve taught yourself to eat trash so you’re not hungry while you’re in there.’<br/>‘Is this still about me?’<br/>‘We may have drifted off topic. Settle in.’<br/>Laurence tried as he told himself that this was what he wanted. His idols in all the military YouTubes talked about being in the field for weeks and embracing the suck. He could embrace it for one night.<br/>After about a thousand years Beetlejuice announced that he was going to talk to Lydia and left Laurence alone and at that point he thought he was going to crack. It was seriously cold now so he put on his extra hoodie and walked up and down to try to distract himself. Knowing that his phone was so close made it worse. He could reach in and grab it and technically he wouldn’t have left the roof. That would be okay, he’d just check the time and put it straight back. Well, maybe the time and a quick scroll to stay caught up on what was going on. It was so tempting. He’d never had to defer pleasure or comfort before. Everything he wanted or needed was pretty much always within arm’s reach.<br/>At long last Beetlejuice reappeared holding two steaming mugs.<br/>‘Your mom insisted you have a hot drink to warm you up.’<br/>Laurence cradled the mug in his hands as the rich coffee aroma wafted over him. In that moment it was without a doubt the single best present he’d ever received.<br/>Beetlejuice pulled a dented hip flask out of his pocket taking a swig from it before topping his coffee up with whatever it was that made him wince and let out a heartfelt ‘<em>fuuuuuck</em>, that is the stuff.’ He offered the flask to Laurence who hastily shook his head.<br/>‘Pararescue,’ said Beetlejuice. ‘Tell me everything.’<br/>Apart from his granddad when he was having one of his increasingly rare good days it seemed to Laurence that no one was ever interested in what he had to say but now Beetlejuice definitely was. His attention didn’t waver as Laurence finally got to give voice to his great ambition. Facts and stories spilled out of him and as he got excited Beetlejuice did too until they were both shouting and pacing around. When the rain came they laughed.<br/>Beetlejuice started dancing and singing a song about what a glorious feeling it was and how he was happy again.<br/>‘You need some moves, kid,’ he said. ‘I’ll slow it down, copy me.’<br/>Yesterday Laurence would’ve rather died than try to dance with someone watching but he didn’t feel embarrassed in front of Beetlejuice who kept up near-constant encouragement. He wasn’t even bothered by how quickly he was out of breath or how hard Beetlejuice’s moves were. It was fun and he kept going, wiping rain out of his eyes and ignoring that it was soaking through his sneakers.<br/>‘Yeah! L-lected President of the Roof! You’re dancing!’<br/>And he was. The high of it and probably the caffeine got him through the next part of the night when he shivered in his wet clothes and felt so hungry it made his bones ache. Every so often Beetlejuice would ask him another question about himself and they’d have a peak of conversation before sliding back into another low of settling in. Laurence had fallen into a cycle of repeatedly falling asleep then jerking awake within a second when he noticed something that gave him an energy boost. The sky was getting lighter.<br/>‘Home straight,’ Beetlejuice declared.<br/>Laurence had been awake at dawn plenty of times when he’d gamed the night away but he’d never been outside to experience it before. The temperature began to rise and first there was one bird and then another and then many announcing the new day. He saw lights go on in houses and slowly the traffic increased from nothing to a steady flow and it was fully daylight.<br/>Beetlejuice gave him a lazy salute.<br/>‘Man test one completed. Go get some sleep.’<br/>Laurence nodded gratefully and stumbled inside. He stripped off his still wet clothes and dived into the shower to get warm before sinking into bed. For the first time he could remember everything felt good. Smiling with the new experience that was pure happiness he closed his eyes and slept. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like fics that have links to cool stuff at the end from people connected to the source material. To continue doing that and echo the military theme some of the chapter had here's Alex Brightman singing Scud by Ryan Scott Oliver. That final note - whoa. https://youtu.be/XuFucXJP3pU</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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